


only human

by paradoxikay



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Cutting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Nonbinary Joshua, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-18 04:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17574206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradoxikay/pseuds/paradoxikay
Summary: It’s that note of melancholy that really gets to him, that sense that this is about more than sex and definitely about more than bossing Sanae around. He’s pretty sure Joshua coughed up more than they meant to, and those bloody images they shared feel almost… nostalgic.





	only human

It’s been a point of contention between them ever since their relationship turned sexual, an awful long time ago: There are things Joshua wants that Sanae just isn’t willing to give.

Which isn’t such a bad thing in and of itself, really, but Joshua just _won’t let go_ , keeps dragging the issue up again every couple years when they’re in a particular kind of mood, and Sanae’s getting real tired of it.

Sanae’s not against getting dominant in bed when it’s what Joshua wants. He’ll happily admit to getting a kick out of having Shibuya’s Composer at his mercy, even if only in play. But he’s never done any real harm, and Joshua takes issue with that. Wants to be hurt, sometimes, wants to _bleed_ , and Sanae’s not on board.

…that’s not quite right. He’s done weirder shit, with Joshua and without. It’s more about _why_ Joshua wants to bleed. Why they want Sanae to be the one to make it happen. If they can’t be upfront about that, they’re not going to get anywhere.

And Josh – they’re not great at being upfront about anything.

 

* * *

 

They’re having that argument again, and because Joshua is exceptionally gifted at testing limits, they bring up the subject at the exact moment Sanae gets their shirt all the way off.

“Show me,” Sanae says this time, instead of _no_. “ _Show me_ why this is so important to you,” like he should’ve said, oh, a good few decades ago, but Joshua’s not the only one who can be stubborn.

It’s obviously not the answer Joshua was expecting, and they take their sweet time mulling it over, deliberately shifting where they sit in Sanae’s lap – like Sanae’s about to let himself get distracted by his dick. “Isn’t it obvious?” But it takes them too long to get there for it to be flippant, and they take in Sanae’s unimpressed expression, and sigh, and deign to let him know just what’s going on that they’d rather be cut open than kissed.

_An uncontrolled flood of images – skinned knees slit wrists nosebleeds gunshots – and a deep sense of melancholy, but above all, **trust** , the cold, harsh kind based entirely in logic; why would you kill me? You have nothing to gain and everything to lose. _

_You would never hurt me. **That’s why I want you to.**_

Well then. That’s a hell of a lot to unpack.

He keeps his hands on Joshua while he does it, not wanting them to get the wrong idea and run off; the answer’s not “no”, not yet. The sheer _force_ of the trust Joshua has for him caught him off guard, even if it’s not very friendly. It’s honest, and that’s what counts. Joshua could probably talk him into an awful lot right now, with how flattered he is, but it’s probably best if he keeps that information to himself.

“Well?” Impatient as always. Sanae laughs, and brushes their hair aside so he can lean in and kiss their forehead.

“I’m thinking,” he mumbles against Joshua’s skin, but he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer.

Part of it’s a power play, that’s obvious. They want Sanae to do something he wouldn’t ordinarily do, just for them – but Sanae makes a whole lot of exceptions for Joshua, so that doesn’t bother him like it maybe should. It’s that note of melancholy that really gets to him, that sense that this is about more than sex and definitely about more than bossing Sanae around. He’s pretty sure Joshua coughed up more than they meant to, and those bloody images they shared feel almost… nostalgic.

“Are you sure about this?” Joshua hums acknowledgement, but they won’t meet Sanae’s eyes. “Josh – look at me. I’m not gonna do this if you’re not absolutely sure it’s what you want.”

“You have my consent. Isn’t that enough?” They do look up, though, serious like Sanae rarely sees them, and _that’s_ enough.

Sanae lays a hand against Joshua’s bare chest and feels the rapid pounding of a heart that only beats out of habit, gone into overdrive to prepare for a fight that’s not coming – layers on layers of remnants of the humanity even the Composer can’t quite shake, and that Sanae can’t quite relate to. He pushes – just a little – a whisper of an Imprint to calm that racing pulse and bring Joshua more fully into the moment they desire so much, and Joshua sighs, and settles, waiting.

When Sanae finally drags his fingers down their chest, it’s with Noise claws that slice effortlessly through the skin and leave five shallow cuts in their wake.

Joshua sucks in a breath, sharp and pained, but after that he’s still and silent, eyes focused somewhere over Sanae’s shoulder. Blood beads up along the tidy little cuts, so, so bright against Joshua’s pale skin, and Sanae feels a tug of guilt. It’s not in his nature to hurt for the sake of hurting, and hurting Joshua, in particular, doesn’t feel great. He immediately wants to put it right, heal the wounds and vanish the blood.

Instead he settles for petting Joshua’s hair, scritching lightly at their scalp, and he figures it’s a good sign that they lean into the touch instead of shoving his hand away.

It’s with something approaching awe that Joshua puts a hand to their chest, studies the blood that smears across their fingertips. Once they’re satisfied they erase the damage themself, humming a few notes to knit skin back together, the blood fading away to nothing.

“Did you know,” they say, tone light, _conversational_ , “that I haven’t bled since I died?”

Sanae hadn’t known, but that explains a whole hell of a lot.

“I assume there was blood, at any rate. I was spared the gory details… I almost wasn’t sure if it was possible, anymore. To bleed.” They twist their fingers into their bangs and tug. “But no – this body still remembers all its myriad functions, as unnecessary as they might be. It even stung.”

There’s that odd sense of nostalgia again, and Sanae thinks he gets it. As powerful as Joshua is, as long as it’s been since they were anything your average mortal would call “human”, there are still shreds of that humanity they’ve been unable to shake – probably won’t ever be able to. The lifeblood of a city runs in a Composer’s veins, but they’re still an individual; that’s the whole point.

Sanae can’t really relate, but then, he’s not meant to.

“Thank you, dear. I… I know that can’t have been easy for you.” That’s an understatement if Sanae’s ever heard one, and he should probably be pissed that Joshua would even ask of him something they knew damn well wouldn’t come easy. But it’s hard to be pissed at Joshua, especially in moments when they’re subdued and sincere, reaching out to cradle his face in their hands as they lean in for a kiss.

“Anytime, boss,” he says, and Joshua’s laughter is music to his ears.

**Author's Note:**

> can you believe this was supposed to be porn
> 
> [tumblr](enbynoctis.tumblr.com) | [twitter](twitter.com/paradoxikay)


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